


Drunk On Shadows

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon, Drama, Episode Related, Ethan Gold Bashing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-24
Updated: 2006-04-11
Packaged: 2018-12-27 10:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12079446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: When Brian Kinney returns after a year everyones suprised that he's back to his old ways. Only now Brian knows what to expect when something tantilizing as before comes his way. He will never fall for it again, he promises. So what happens when a persistant little shit manages to work his way into Brian Kinneys life?[Reposted due to some screwups last time..]





	1. 01; lies are my only company

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes: Sorry about this being reposted, for some reason nobody could get into Chapter 02..  
  


* * *

Another day runs past me as I try going along without a drink. Sometimes I wonder what day I sat down and drank and decided that I would do it every so often that I forgot who I was eventually. Which day destroyed me. Truth is I havn't had a drink in 3 months. In the back of my mind I still feel drunk, out of it and unbelievably messed up. I just got off the plane about 2 hours ago and I'm still sitting in the airport, thinking about far too much. I feel like this world is one convalescing mass of indescribable proportions.  
And the only world I happen to be able to live "properly" in, is one without bounds. So I thought I could create one. The problems with creating your own world are innumerable. You can't count infinity.  
Well, you know that if I wanted to create an excuse for my behaviour that I could in a heartbeat, but I'm tired of creating excuses for actions which had no real 'concrete' foundation.   
Why is it that we need to know? More importantly than why to me, is -what- do we need to know. How do you name something you don't know? And even more important- how... do you find out this thing? And does this thing really exist or am I just making up something to find because I cannot live without the journey? Am I only searching for the beginning to the end or the end to my beginning?  
See how easy it is to lie? Now, you try.  
Come on, just lie. It'll make you feel good, I promise. And if it doesn't feel good now, a couple more lies in- it'll feel better. Just like your first cigarette, your first beer, first time having sex, first kiss, first date, first job, first anything...  
Man is adaptable like everything else. Ever heard the saying, "You just roll with the punches?" That's the one. That first smoke might come natural. Or it'll suck until you get used to it. Your first beer could taste awful but maybe its an acquired feeling and taste. Could be better if you... had a couple more? First time having sex your conscience might kill you, or it could be beautiful and full of 'love'. Or is it just a mechanism to facilitate the production of offspring? Is that all it is? Maybe if you fucked a lot of people you'd find someone you truly love. Then- its not fucking for the sake of fucking anymore is it? Maybe its 'making love'. Another lie for the exact same thing.   
First kiss could be awkward but you get used to kissing don't you? Just a little more.... And your first job. Might be shitty, might be good. But you'll get better with the magic of 'job experience', no? Everyone says things will get better if you just try. Try your best, try a little harder... eventually it will be good.  
When, hmm? When I'm dead?   
If I take one more punch I think I might die.   
[boy, was that a lie.]

Fuck, I was born a punching bag. I can take this.   
That's what I like to tell myself.

How much more can I lie?

Remember there's a fine line, and there always will be one.  
Walk it, don't cross it either way. Or the journey's over. Can't take the heat? Get out of the kitchen.

There are recipes for everything.  
[if there isn't, make one.]

Its not the greatest feeling to be back in the Pitts, but its a feeling none the less, and really that's all that counts right now. Feeling. Anything but that numb ache thats been wandering around in me for the past 3 months. 3 months, thats how long its been since I saw him. Since he did it. I try pushing the thought in the back of my mind, or out of it if possible and then get up to get the fuck out of this sterilized place. I look around for a telephone and spot one a few feet away. I reach my hand over and grab a tissue, putting it aorund my hand and picking the reciever up. Hey, just because everything here looks clean doesn't mean it is. 

I call the one person I can count on now. Michael. Best friend since we were kids. He's probably hating me right now considering what I did to him. To everyone. But, no regrets, right? I sigh and dial his number, still knowing it off by heart. The phone rings 6 times and then someone finally pickes up.   
"Hello?" I hear his voice on the other end, out of breath.  
I clear my throat. "Mikey.."  
"B-Brian?" he stutters, clearing his throat as well.  
"Yeah.." Its good to hear his voice.  
"Uh.. where are you?"  
"The airport." I sigh "I was wondering if you could come get me?"  
There was silence on the other end, no breathing emerged either.   
"Mikey?"  
"Y-Yeah.. i'll be there soon." He hangs up.


	2. 02; its understandable that im useless

  
Author's notes: Chapter two, hopefully this will get reviews. Remember the 5 review rule? XD still going. (only posted this chapter wiytout reviews for the first becuase i deleted the old version and that already had 5 reviews)  
  
Enjoy.  


* * *

When Mikey arrived he looked so different, his hair was a bit longer and darker, not much but enough for me to notice. He wore baggy jeans and large tshirt that couldn't be his, or maybe his style had changed over the year I'd been gone. He smiled and walked towards me, like we hadn't been apart for a day. After a few good seconds of just looking at eachother I bent down and planted a kiss on his lips, smiling into it.   
"I missed you." I say as I pull away.  
He smiles wider with that goofy grin and quietly says "Ditto."  
"So.." Letting out an exhale "What has Mikey been up to this last year?" I say as we walk to the car, which is a roomey SUV, dear lord.  
"Well, hunter graduated with great marks" He gushed. "Ben and I repainted the kitchen blue.."   
"Oh, I see things havn't changed in excited around here." I say, sarcastically.  
"Shut up.." He laughs. "Oh I finally found an artist for that comic I wanted to start. He's great, really talented, but young."  
"Thats great, Mikey." I say, opening the window.   
"Your not listening, are you?"   
I turn around to face him, "Really talented, young."  
He shakes his head. "So where you going? Home or to the diner?"  
"I'm tired, need sleep."

A silence crept over us, I leant over and turned on the cd player. The sound of HIM filled the car. I remember Mikey saying this was one of his new favroite bands about a year ago. The guitar riffs were good, I'll admit. I wasn't fond of the guys voice.. or the bass. I sighed again, unknowing at first and then I realize I've been sighing every few moments without realizing. I lean my head out over the window and then I faintly hear his voice over the wind rushing through my ears.  
"So are you going to tell me what happened?"  
He keeps his eyes on the road, probably just to avoid mine. Hoping I don't yell at him and tell him to mind his buisness, which happens alot. Instead I shrug slightly and say "Nothing."  
Silent again. I feel a bit angry at the thought of telling people what happened. I clench my fists and stick them in my coat pocket. I hear him turn the music down and I look at him as he begins turning down my street.  
"You could tell me.." his voice is low again and he's looking over at me now. "You know, if something happened."  
"I know." I said, pushing my head out the window again, liking the cold air hitting my face and running through my hair.

I had a dream that night, i'm on a train to somewhere when suddenly the man who sits down next to me is wearing the same cologne you used to. I want to laugh and shout from the rooftops at once as the familiar smell of our memories drifts back to me; thoughts of a time where ordering in and sleeping on the floor out of boredom and midnight beach visits were tiring and thrilling and always left us yearning for more. But in a flash your scent of the past disappears as quickly at it materialized and i'm not sure if it was for the better or the worse.

I woke up at 9 in the morning, thinking that tomorrow I'd be back at work and things would eventually get better. They have to. Theres no way I could spend a lifetime like this. I turn 34 next week and thats gotta mean something. I think of people in my life, instead of the one who isn't. How bitter I feel towards them and their happy lives.   
I begin looking in the mirror, thinking to myself. The closer you get to me, the more you will notice that parts of me are missing. _"Look!"_ you'll say, nudging the person next to you, _"There's an empty space in his chest where his heart is supposed to be, and another one in his face where his mouth is supposed to be! Do you think it's an editing mistake?! Could they miss something like that?!"_ No, they could not. For it is not an editing mistake. You are seeing me just as I am--incomplete and missing pieces of himself. Pan down and you'll see there are bigger holes, gaping holes that are menacing in their utter darkness and sadly beautiful in a way you can only understand deep inside of you. A way that draws you to me and makes you want to save me. But I can't be saved, this can't be replaced with something whole and loving. This is permanent.

Move as close as you can without me knowing you're there and you'll see I'm not human--no, not human--but a shell. A shell of a person who used to be. The harder you look the more my exterior comes into focus. What I'm made of. _"What is that stuff?"_ you'll ask the person next to you, straining for a better look, struggling to understand. Finally you'll see--he's made of faded and peeling paint: ready to blow away or fall off at any given moment. Your eyes darken and brow furrows, your heart pounding in your chest and your soul aching for what you've discovered. Then you'll leave, walk away with this other person and forget about this gaping hole I've left inside you as well. This need for knowing, for fixing.   
I'm broken from thought as my cell phone rings. I make my way out of the bathroom and into my jeans pocket, pulling out the silver mobile.   
"Yeah?" I say figetting with my pants, trying to pull them on while balancing the phone with my shoulder and cheek.  
"Hey Brian, I was thinking maybe you could stop by at the shop and meet my partner in crime.."  
I shake my head, opening my closet door.  
"Now why on earth would I care enough to meet this random fuckwit.."  
"Because you care about me" I can hear him smiling.  
"I'll think about it." I say, flipping the phone closed and shoving on a black muscle shirt and a black dress shirt over it.

I suspect i'll drop by for a few minutes and then maybe head down to the diner, grab some lunch, head to the gym and then figure out how to stop myself from screaming out in anger the rest of the day.


	3. 03; im the one kicking it out

  
Author's notes:

Next chapter people, hopefully this one sparks reviews.

* * *

The vette purred under me, and it felt so good to sit in the leather seats again. I'd missed this car, the feeling when in it. I felt (slightly) young again, instead of ridiculously old and used like lastnight. Alone and jaded. I felt a bit like Brian Kinney again. Well, not entirely but I knew what would make me feel like him again. It was just a matter of doing it, and if I was ready for it. I glanced at my reflection, I didn't much look like myself anymore. My eyes were tired and dry. Sunken in and drained. I rubbed them with my left hand and placed some sunglasses on to hide the dark circles.  
  
I flipped open my cell phone and dialed Kinnetik. I hadn't had much contact with my own company in a few months with all this fucking terrible crap going on lately, but before everything turned to a steaming pile of cat shit, I had called frequently to make sure ted was doing things right and everyone was in line.   
"Kinnetik." I heard the familiar blondes voice shime.   
"My dear Cynthia.." I smiled, turning left and near knocking over some kid.  
"Brian?" She explaimed as if years of not hearing my voice had passed. "I... we havn't heard from you in a long time, I was worried, Teds freaking, things are hectic around here now and.."  
"Calm down, Cynth." I said, trying to cut through her rambling.  
"So hows it up there? Still with whats his face?" She asked and I cringed, the popping feeling in my heart causing me to almost go into cardiac arrest.  
I said nothing and thankfully she breezed past it."Did you get my email on the Goodman account? Pretty stupid shit right?"  
"Yeah, really what was he smoking to ask a stupid question like that? Of course I'm going to take it in that direction, all my accounts go in that direction.." I half laughed, rolling my lips in my mouth and parking outside the large deep green building.  
"So, Cynth, I've gotta jet, big meeting big things to do." I lie, a nice surprise is always fun.  
There was silence for awhile, before finally she spoke as I walked into the building going down the hallway.  
"Listen Brian, call me tomorrow. I hate not hearing from you in so long.."  
"Will do." I said and hung up after saying goodbye.  
  
I entered through the glass doors, seeing her head down, back to me.  
"Whats wrong Cynth?" I asked sneaking up behind her "Someone decline you for dinner again?"  
Her head shot up and she twisted her body around. Her mouth hung open and she fnally gave me a huge smile.  
"Brian!" and her arms flew around my neck.   
After a few minutes of her saying 'Oh my god', I moved her away from me.  
"Now stop blubbering and tell me what I've been missing.." She straightened her shirt out and followed me as I began walking around.  
"Well, you already know about Browns athletics being taken over by his son, whom I met a few days ago and is an arrogant prick who won't take no for an answer.."  
"Yes I know about Brown, Ive got a meeting set up with him tomorrow at 11, so I'll meet him then.." I picked up a green apple from the basket and bit into it. Just how I remember my apples tasting.  
"Uh.." she thought for a moment "Ted landed the Truly account just yesterday.."  
"Nice one Theadore.." I smiled thinking how good he;s been doing recently "What else?"  
"Oh we're down two people now.." she said, trying to catch up with me expecting everything.  
"Who? and what departments?"  
"Both art department. MacDougall and Conorston."  
"Fuck. Found potential replacments yet?"  
"Two but there not exactly Kinnetik material." She stopped walking and folded her arms. "Ones a homophobe who hates you, and the other is a young, unexperienced.. yet a surprisingly talented, kid."  
I sat down at my desk as she showed me their profolios. I removed my sunglasses and opened the first one reading 'Tom Dively'.   
"Okay.. so lets see.." I rubbed my eyes and tried focusing on the artwork this Dively guy had in here. "This guys not bad, got some good names under his belt but could potential be killed by me if he says anything to be about sucking cock.."  
There was some silence between us as I continued looking at his refrences and past agencies. Vangart was at the bottom. I smiled tightly and made a mental note to see why he didn't work there anymore.   
"Brian, you look a little tired.." Cynthia said, sitting in the black chair across from me. I looked up and shrugged. "Just jet-lag.."  
"Why did you come back anyways? What happened with Ch-"  
"Nothing." I said sternly, looking at her. "Now leave it."  
I opened the other kids file 'Taylor' read the name on the front. "Now this kids got talent, his stuffs good. He'd do this company alot of nice fucking stuff.."  
"Yeah, but he just graduated high school 2 years ago, has no college degree and no past employers.. it's a risk Brian.."  
I looked over some more of his stuff and then closed it abruptly. "Have Dively and Taylor see me tomorrow around 11:30-12ish. I'll decide then."  
She took the files and started walking away.   
"Brian.." I heard her say, looking up I noticed she was staring right at me which rarely happened. She always thought I'd kill her on spot if I caught her looking at me so intensly, which might have been true when she first started working for me. "Its good to have you back" she smiled, and then finally left.

I cleared my throat, trying to get the sickening taste out of it. It felt as if I had thrown up and the residue was burning my insides. I coughed loudly and stood up, remembering Mikey. I turned the blindes closed slightly knowing tomorrow when I came in I'd have a hangover and this way it would soften the blow of coming into work with a massive headache. I figure I'll take some time with Mikey, get some lunch and then spend the night drinking away my anger.  
  
When I arrived at the comic store I had noticed my eyes had become even more heavy than before. The dark circles I dreaded had been placed there and I reminded myself to pick up some product for that. I rubbed my eyes, blinked a few times and then retreated back to the lowly lit surroundings with my sunglasses on. I wondered how different I looked to Mikey. He looked pretty much the same, but me.. My hair had somehow turned black from brown, my eyes we're now too dark to distinguish a colour from them and my face looked over all tired and worn out. I had jaded over time away. I looked up and the bright light from the sun prodruded my sunglasses and for a moment my head shook with flashacks.  
  
 _"What do you mean you didn't mean to!" I yelled moving closer to him._  
"That what I mean Brian, fuck." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "There no other explanation.."  
I gawked at him, my mouth open and my eyes wide. "N-No other explanation!? You cheated on me. How about the explanation that your a cunt!"  
"Fuck you Brian!" He yelled back. "When we were in the Pitts all you did was fuck around!"  
"When we were in the Pitts we weren't a couple. We just fucked regularly. The whole point in me moving her with you was so that we'd be together, only us. But apparently me moving here was just for you to fuck people in a different state!"  
There was silence between us, harsh breathing and the sound of knuckles cracking. I hated when he did that.  
"How many?" I asked, turning away from him.  
"Wha-"  
"How. Many."   
More silence. More deep breathes.  
"A few.."  
"How many.." I said a bit more softly.  
"Just Jake, Trevor, Clive and Matt.."  
"Thats all huh?" I smiled bitterly.   
"Yes. But Brian I came back to you. I want you, I want us."  
"Get out."  
"Bri-"  
"GET OUT!!" 

I gripped the steering wheel tightly and gritted my teeth. I wanted to go home and sleep these images away, but I shook my head and opened the car door and went inside the comic store, trying to hide the feeling inside me as best I could.


End file.
